


The Nights Where Witches were Hunted

by hdr22_at_NASA_dot_gov



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Civil War, Disabled Character, Gen, Learning Disabilities, Magic, Platonic Relationships, Road Trips, lightnovel format, public panic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hdr22_at_NASA_dot_gov/pseuds/hdr22_at_NASA_dot_gov
Summary: On 24th May 2018, a mysterious event bestowed parapsychotic power on a demographic of Americans. Initially, public reaction was one of slow curiosity, but when the single most witch hunted person was revealed to be a literal witch, everything rapidly collapsed. The federal government, capitalizing on the existing racial tension and the rural-urban divide, declared an intention to eliminate all possible witches and wizards, presumed to be her voters based on everyone who was reported on the news. Curiosity rapidly turned into fear, and more than sixty five million Americans found a target on their back, despite no concrete evidence.Ryan, a seventeen years old, gun wearing, "God-serving real American", found a twenty two years old witch with intellectual disability hiding in a wardrobe.





	1. From Pages to Real ~ Prologue

The first incident occurred in rural Kentucky.

 

A synagogue burns. Not the first in the last two years, and surely not the last. It wasn’t the busiest of the day, but the arsonists still bolted the doors shut. The sun didn’t deterred them. The police, as usual, were slow to the scene. Under the burning smoke, the arsonists parade and chanted, waving their red hats like the old Confederate battle flag. One person set up a tripod for live streaming.

 

Suddenly, an old, beat up green truck arrived to the scene. Out emerged an old African American grandma, with a mechanical door blaster on her shoulder and a bucket of water. Her face was covered with an air filter mask. The arsonists turned toward the grandma and jeered, but they did not have the courage to go against her. The grandma marched on, until she reached the bolted doors and splashed her bucket around the area.

 

At that moment, everything became undone.

 

As if the grandma had instead poured a heavenly pot of water onto the synagogue, the fire disappeared instantly, leaving only smoke.

 

Everything paused. But the grandma wasn’t stunned for long. She blasted the door open, and out came several grayed face people.

 

The arsonists fled. The police came, and arrested the grandma and the victims as usual. But they soon realize nothing will become usual anymore. The livestream recording quickly spread outside of Trump’s fanbase, out into the mainstream media. They, majority right winged, conveniently ignored the action of the arsonists, and instead focused on the woman. For about two hours, they invited “experts” to speculate the explanation of the incidence. For about two hours, the recording was just a viral, mysterious video.

 

Then--

 

On the traffic cam, a young man seemingly single-handedly pushed back a car that was about to hit a busy intersection in the busy street of New York.

 

Under the watchful eyes of the Golden Gate patrols, a woman jumped down to save another suicide, but instead levitates and brought the man back onto the bridge.

 

Twenty cows died instantly on a Wisconsin farm, with no lightning and no power line nearby.

 

For the rest of the day, the media was bombarded with report of mysterious incidents, seemingly with no other explanation than “magic”. “Experts” were puzzled. The Internet went wild. And some honestly believed that it was magic. Each names were collected. They were tentatively called “witches” and “wizards”. As the rest of the world woke up, other voices join the chaos.

 

For about 24 hours, the world was mystified by, not feared, these new-found phenomenons.

 

* * *

 

 

If one was to talk about anyone potentially being a witch, there is one person that should always come up.

 

Despite everything that happened on the day before, for a majority of Americans, June 25 was going to be just a normal Tuesday. As the alarms sounded, the working class got up, cast a short glance over the right wing cable news, hear the latest news on government corruption on their way to work, and the “magic” phenomenons doesn’t even register in their ears. Things has gotten exponentially worse for everyone in the last two years, and there is only so much that a normal person can care at any given time. NPR gave a rundown on the newest mass incarceration number and “deportation camp” data from Amnesty International, news on American journalists seeking asylum in Canada and Germany, the massive voting audit investigation on 2018 general headed by various journalistic organizations despite threats from the federal government had all become but a faint buzz. As long as the federal government doesn’t point their gun against them, a normal American does not care.

 

But even for the “establishment”, there are a million other things they deemed more important.

 

For perhaps the four hundred thousandth time in the last two and a half years, Hillary Rodham was invited to speak at an important event. The author gave a calculated remark to the audience and any press involved, clear of snark and snide that was her true voice. The content of the speech nor the purpose of the event does not matter, because she would get attacked regardless. If she speaks, she’s the devil reincarnated. If she doesn’t speak, she’s still the devil reincarnated.

 

But she’s the kind of person that would sell her soul to the devil to save the lives of her enemy.

 

Of course, this type of people isn’t particularly rare.

 

In her old age, she was still going strong. No one needed to carry her, and she didn’t need to use canes or anything. She can handle stairs just fine, and need no one to open doors for her. Her voice doesn’t crack, nor does she show any signs of dementia. No doubt she still have many pursuers, both young and old.

 

It must be said that no one respect a woman’s grace.

 

She’s still wearing a bulletproof vest that would choke a dog to death and overheat anyone who can’t sweat. Yet she has contented that if she was to die right now, the world, who has gone into great effort to erase her existence, would not be better or worse off. So she would live for her grandchildren. Because if not for that, she would have died in the next five minutes.

 

The light flickered, and the stage lighting system fall according to the law of physics.

 

Several people started running, but they all know it would be too late.

 

She didn’t move. Like anyone who realize their death is immediate and inevitable, life begin to flash by like a magic lantern. All her regrets, sadness, happiness, accomplishment, romances, and broken promises.

 

But.

 

The stage lighting system disappeared into thin air, and she collapsed on the stage.

 

The image of Hillary Diane’s lifeless body being dragged across the stage was her last public appearance for more than a decade.

 

Later, hikers would discover the lights in an uninhibited region of the Appalachian.

 

In less than thirty minutes, the national GOP leadership called a public address on Fox News.

 

From this moment on, the figurative hunt become literal.

 

* * *

 

 

On the other side of the nation, the newly elected governor called his own press conference. Governor Newsom, or more commonly called, Gavin, had nothing. There were just not enough time to write an elaborate speech, but Gavin must answer everything the public demands. He was followed by the senate pro tempore and assembly speaker. On their way from Oakland was some members of the UC Regents. The press, fresh from the provocative speech by the GOP leadership, turned their attention to Sacramento almost immediately.

 

The former San Francisco major had aged tremendously since his fabled feud with the Bush administration, so much that Christian Bale can no longer become his surrogate without extensive makeup. Yet he still contain that youthfulness which rivaled Justin Trudeau. Two years ago, he had called 2018 California gubernatorial election the election that would determine the fate of the world. And today, he is just merely fulfilling that prophecy.

 

The hospitality of Californians, previously tested with admitting undocumented immigrant refugees, fighting the ban on same sex marriage and abortion, protecting freedom of the press and creative market, issuing birth certificates on any native born despite federal threat, and continuing to support religious freedom, met their greatest challenge in 2019.

 

“...to anyone who is in fear, know that California will always be your home, and California will always welcome you.”

 

Gavin lift himself up and crouch on the podium. Then, with a light jump, he propelled himself to the second level of the capitol building. Before the crowd can let out a gasp, every window, every door of the capitol busted open, and shone a glow that rivaled the summer morning sun.


	2. The Witch in the Wardrobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewriting the premise and changing basic plot elements. Finally got the time to work on this as part of Nanowrimo, but sadly couldn't finish it before it ends. Will rework on the premise after class is over. Looking forward to finishing this in December!

School was over. One more year to go.   
Ryan took his keys and switched on his old dusty car. Today was too hot as always to not have air conditioning. But his windows were broken too and his father already said no to “useless elite things, son, you know we use to ride horses and when I got my first car we roll the windows down to get a taste of that darn wind”. It took ages for Ryan to convince his father to order a working radio, the parts to install it, and permission to install it because his father needs the car too and he doesn’t like the radio.   
As always, he turned the knob to his favourite jazz station, a local “Nashville favored country jazz” that record their music on air, except between 8pm to 4am and during holidays. But music didn’t come out from the speaker. Instead, it was a news report from an anchor that Ryan is fifty percent sure he had heard from on Fox News.   
“...Washington isn’t giving us a response on this crisis. This people who voted to destroy this country two years ago now have the ability to kill all God-loving patriots in this nation. They are terrorists, plain and simple. We have the data from the Russian interference. Now let us use it to save our nation. Every single day this is unaddressed, more honest, hardworking Americans die—”  
It is at this point that Ryan realized he had overturned the knob and instead had landed on the local news station. Unlike everyone else in this town Ryan never listen to the local news station – a bunch of Sinclair controlled buffoons just parroting what Washington want them to say. This seemingly contrarian opinion from this host is just trying to get people rifled up so Washington can claim the people wants them to do something.   
Wait, what thing?  
Ryan pondered whether or not he should turn the station back to Sinclair. But he kept his jazz on until he rolled into his garage.   
He got nothing to do for two hours.   
In this town, residents are encouraged to sign up for a volunteer police force. Just something that was voted on by almost everyone in this town. Due to the overwhelming sign up everyone gets about two hour shift per month, and today is Ryan’s shift. Even though Ryan is “underage”, he already demonstrated complete mastery of his pistol and car, like every single 17-year-old teenager in this town. He hasn’t got a chance to put it to use it, because this town is pretty peaceful and no one really comes here. It’s nice. So his patrol duty is mainly inspecting the trucks that drop their shipment here, because the people in this town got to eat.   
He shut the garage, drop his backpack in his room, then lay face flat onto his bed. The days where he has to wake up early is over.   
His bed is so soft. But he isn’t tired enough to take a nap.   
Fox News is on in the main living room. His father – working night shifts – was enjoying a large tray of chips on the sofa. His older sister – Sophia, already graduated from the high school last year – was doing her make up before going to work in half an hour. And he can hear his mother baking something in the kitchen, perhaps lemon chocolate pie like she always does during the summer.   
“Dad?” Ryan called out. “I am home.”  
“Well, school’s over, right son? Congrats. Can’t believe they keep you there for such a long time.” Ryan’s father grabbed another handful of chips.   
“Right. Thanks Dad. But I have another year to go.”  
“Another? Jeez they don’t teach you anything useful in that school. Why they got to do that for? Wasting taxpayer money to pay teachers?”  
“Uh – I have to go to school. It’s the law.”   
He turned his attention to the TV. A young, white, blonde female anchor was reading something off a list. “It’s been five hours and they haven’t found her yet. But just now we have breaking news from Michigan. Some students are starting a riot on Ann Harbor campus trying to prevent law enforcement officers from apprehending a subject suspected of causing a fire last night.”  
“Dad, who are they looking for?” There’s no Fox News chyron on this segment.   
“Oh. You were at school and you didn’t heard about this?” His dad picked up a can of beer from the table. “Son, Hillary’s on the run.”  
“Hillary – Hillary who?” Up till today Ryan hasn’t paid attention to the news.   
“Hillary the cunt, that’s who,” his dad took a big gulp from his can before continuing. “Oh right. You don’t know her and the horrors she caused. We thought we stopped her, but nope. Turns out she really does have demonic powers.”  
“What demonic powers?” his dad usually doesn’t use hyperbole like this. “This Hillary person – she’s just a normal person, right?”  
“Well, son, she was almost in the position to destroy this nation two years ago. And us God loving patriots stopped her, and we would have used our bullets if we couldn’t. We thought she’s gone for good, but now she’s back and hunting us. What a cunt.”  
“Dad, I thought she was on the run?”  
“Yeah. She tried to hunt us but we fought back and now she’s on the run.” His dad chew through a mouthful of chips.   
“What. You are not making sense Dad.”   
“Aw, don’t worry. They can take care of her soon. For good.”  
This Hillary person doesn’t seem like a dangerous person.   
Ryan went into the kitchen to see if he can grab a bite before he goes out. His mother was indeed baking, but was not baking chocolate lemon pies as he had believed. Rather, he saw mint extracts and several glasses of white liquid.   
“Mom?”  
“Hello my sweetheart. Welcome back from school!” his mother didn’t shift her attention to him. “I am almost finished with the mint cookies. It will be ready before you go out tonight. Then we will have milk fish tonight.”  
“Um, alright mom. I am just going to get some ice cream first,” Ryan murmured, then went back to his room with his loot. He heard a car driving up to the house and his sister leaving.   
Now what should he do?  
Usually he would do his homework. But school is over and he have no reason to do that. He could go on his computer and watch some TV – it took massive amount of convincing from the siblings to get them computers, then wire the Internet, which Sophia claim it came bundled with the cable, and then get a subscription to watch episodes. But he only got about an hour and half, and the show he is following doesn’t have a new episode until tomorrow. Or he could check out geek news for new information on the series he’s following – or tries to follow since the local comic store doesn’t get shipments very often. In the end he decided to check his Twitter timeline.   
“The scheduled broadcast for The Great Hunters tomorrow is cancelled due to current event. We apologize for the inconvenience and will reschedule as soon as possible.” The most current tweet from the production team reads.   
What.   
What current event?  
Ryan scrolled down to other tweets. Other people he’s following - mostly actors, writers, video gamers – is saying something about magic, sending thoughts and prayers to something happening at Madison and Ann Harbor, sending concerns to crew members and their followers, telling President Hatch to act fast, and something about Hillary Clinton.   
For the first time in his life, Ryan clicked on the News section of Twitter.   
“DEVELOPING: Arrest warrant issued by the FBI for Hillary Clinton.” The featured Twitter moment reads. By its side are seemingly unrelated moments.   
“LIVE: Protest at University of Michigan, Ann Harbor against police arrest of Ren Trenton.”  
“National Guards mobilized in New York for the first time in recent years.”   
“Thousands of cows mysteriously dead in Wisconsin, puzzling researchers.”  
Ryan checked the New York moment first. With what can happen in one day in the past two years, things can go absolutely wild in any given day. But what could absolutely stop a production is terrorism activities, and that seems to be what the National Guard is there for.   
“At 11:23 am EST, the federal government federalized New York National Guards and dispatched the troops to Albany, New York, at the site of the International Children Welfare Gala, despite protect from the governor of New York.   
“National Guards has surrounded the site with limited access. All attendees of the Gala were not allowed to leave except for emergency purposes. Local law enforcements are blocked from accessing the site.  
“@Journalist: This is unprecedented and should only be used in case of a terrorist attack. This is a blatant abuse of power by the White House.  
“They are trying to send a signal to New Yorkers that they can send troops to anywhere in America to detain their political enemies. This is just a remnant of Trumpism.  
“Firing Mueller was the last straw. The White House now have complete control over the federal government without any dissent or oversight.  
“@Residents of New York: Protesters gathered in front of the blockade to protest National Guards. Disperse orders have been issued but thousands of protesters remain. Riot police have arrived on scene.”  
So, it was not a terrorist attack but something else completely. Yet Ryan cannot think of other reason why National Guards were sent to the location.   
But wait. The Fox News anchor said something about a protest in Michigan. Maybe it was related to that instead.  
“Local law enforcements were prevented from entering the campus of University of Michigan, Ann Harbor today to arrest Ren Trenton, a suspect in an arson cast last night.  
“Students staged blockade outside of the dormitory area expressing suspicion at the warrant. A physics professor currently teaching summer classes at the university sent out a statement last night explaining the physical impossibility of the arson case and request further investigation. Student activist group on campus suspect that there might be racial profiling angle to the warrant.  
“Pundits on Fox News suspect that this case may be related to Hillary Clinton.  
“Several students were arrested on the ground of obstruction of justice. Campus police has issued dispersion warnings and had cleared the way for the arrest of Ren Trenton.”  
The moment was confusing to read. Ryan took a moment to think. Perhaps the news cycle happened so quickly that everything is a jumbo mess and need some curtailing to do.   
Ryan checked the featured moment to finally understand who this Hillary person is and why everyone is hating on her, or perhaps trying to understand.   
“BREAKING: FBI issued arrest warrant for Hillary Clinton due to ‘subversive activities’ after reports of disappearing infrastructure at the International Children Welfare Gala. Federal authorities had surrounded the area after the first report but did not find her. National Guards had surrounded the area to prevent anyone from leaving.  
“@Pundits: the probable cause of ‘subversive activities’ is suspicious and borderline asinine. Her activities do not meet any definition of ‘subversive’ and only serves to flame the suspicion that this administration is anti-democratic and seeks to jail their opponent at any opportunity.   
“The reaction from the White House and federal authorities is strange for this kind of situation. There’s no apparent harm done to anyone by her action, if she did anything at all. It seems that at the very most only local law enforcement is needed and the incident to be analyzed by scientific experts. No, this is evident of a dictatorship, where the tiniest excuse is used to squish their opposition.  
“This attempt to ‘lock her up’ is plainly ridiculous, especially two years after the election.  
“@others: protest on this turn of events seems to be more focused on the presence of National Guards in the area than the warrant. Perhaps if the White House did not activate the National Guards they would have arrested her. This seems to be sending a message to people in New York rather than about subduing Hillary Clinton.  
“@former Clinton aides: we know this day would come since two years ago, but we know she will withstand. We trust that justice will prevail in the end.   
“@Pundits: the fact that she has gone missing is sending a mixed signal to the public about whether or not she’s undermining the American institution. When she is running away, she’s accepting the fact that she’s a criminal.  
So it does seems to be related after all. This girl did something that send the National Guards on their way.   
But what did she do?  
“Explained: What Actually Happened at the Gala,” the suggested Twitter moment at the bottom of the page reads. It linked to a Twitter thread by a journalist at Washington Post.   
“For those confused about the causes of recent events, the following is a chronological account of what happened.  
“1. Hillary Clinton was scheduled to speak at the International Children Welfare Gala, in Albany, New York.   
“2. During her speech, section of the stage light fell off, but disappeared in mid air. This event was caught on camera and tweeted out by some Gala attendees.  
“3. After the smokes were cleared she had disappeared from the podium. On site security called 911 as a result.  
“4. However, federal authority arrived first with emergency personnel to evaluate damage. National Guards were called soon after federal authorities cannot find her.  
“5. The FBI soon after issued a national warrant.”  
Attached in the Twitter thread was a clip of the incident, recorded from the web stream of the gala. The camera focuses on Hillary from dead center; she began by talking about children from across the world and how much European powers and American donors helped them. Then suddenly, a loud sound occurred above. The camera did not shift upward, but Hillary turned her head upwards, as does most of the attendees. At first, the crowd was silent, perhaps in shock. Someone can be heard saying “What is that”. Then as quickly as the sound occurred, there was silence, and debris came to cover the stage. But just before the debris showered down, Hillary can be seen fainting down, and several people in black tried to grab her. Then the video stopped.   
That was a sudden event. But why does that warrant the federal authority’s attention? Ryan was sure there’s some alternative explanation.   
Another video was attached in the thread, a retweet of a tweet by an attendee with cell phone camera quality video. This time, the camera turned to focus on the source of the loud sound: stage light falling. In the video, Ryan can clearly see the stage light breaking off and falling down, albeit with strange unclarity due to quality of the camera in the dark.   
And then, the stage light disappeared.   
Ryan rewinded the video back a frame. Yet clearly, the entire fixture was present in one frame, and then disappeared.   
Perhaps this is some camera trick, or just bad lighting.   
Or perhaps it is magic, or the demonic power his dad was talking about. Then everything would make sense. The FBI, the National Guard.   
And the physical impossible arsonist.   
No, this can’t be. It’s just coincidence and most likely have some scientific explanation Ryan isn’t aware of at the moment. Magic isn’t real. Everything have an explanation.   
Ryan clicked back to the moments main page. He hovered back to the dead cow moment, and wondering if that is also due to some kind of “magic”.   
“Earlier today, about a thousand cow on the Jeanne Dairy Farm was found dead, with signs of electrocution. The cows were found on open field with no close contact with power lines or recent report of thunderstorms…”  
“Ryan, shouldn’t you be ready to get to work now?” his dad yelled from the living room.   
“Huh?” Oh right. Time went by fast. Ryan shut off his computer, drop his ice cream bowl in the sink – his mother would take care of that – then paused in front of the TV. Fox News is still on.   
“Don’t you see the trend?” an old guy pundit yelled on TV. “All these reports – all of them, including herself – are from people who voted for Hillary Clinton. The solution here is right in front of us. The Mueller report – the sham Russian investigation said we had a list of all Hillary voters and supporters to target and stop from voting. Well let’s use that list and eliminate this threat to the American public like the Russians did in 2016.”  
“See you, dad,” Ryan said before entering the garage and leaving the house.   
Ryan arrived five minutes before the clock at the sheriff’s office. Here he will have to pick up his gear – an official looking vest, a pair of pistols he has to sign off and assume all responsibilities for, a badge – and report to his duty.   
“Hello sheriff. Officer Ryan reporting to his patrol duty,” he announced to the sheriff’s office. Normally the sheriff would give Ryan a warm welcome, and so would his other officers. But instead the sheriff and others were glued watching TV. Fox News.   
“Hello. Sheriff,” Ryan repeated.   
“Oh, Ryan. Sorry about that,” the sheriff snapped his head toward Ryan. “I have already given you the assignments last week. Nothing changed about the location. Thanks for making it here, but,” the sheriff grabbed some papers. “This is from the FBI that they want us to cooperate on, and you need to focus on that with your partner.”  
“Huh?” Ryan received the papers. It was Hillary Clinton’s arrest warrant and special instructions to look for “suspicious people with strange activities”, detain them, and report them to the FBI. “What is this?”  
“I forgot, you don’t check the news often do you?” the sheriff chuckled. “I doubt she would get this far so fast with everyone looking for her in New York alone. But just in case, here’s a picture of the old hag’s face. And,” the sheriff suddenly went serious. “The FBI want us to look out for people similar to her.”  
“What do you mean by that?”  
“The FBI think their search for her is alerting people like her and sending them running in the country, perhaps to Canada and Mexico.”  
“No I mean, why?”  
“Why? Well, why – she’s a demon, Ryan.”  
“That’s rid -- I mean, sheriff, you know demons aren’t real.”  
“Ryan, I saw it with my own eyes. And the FBI doesn’t want to mention it because it would make them sound silly, but it is true. We need to catch those demons and bring them to justice. Now go.”  
Ryan arrived at the patrol spot with his partner, still dumb folded at the events that have happened. Magic, demons, Hillary Clinton, everything just went crazy in the past few hours. This must be a dream, and Ryan just hasn’t awakened yet.   
His patrol partner – the adult of the pair, the person who drives and is primarily responsible for all the criminal catching and solving problems if they arise – stood by the official patrol car and started to smoke. They were stationed near the mouth of the highway entrance and thus is tasked with checking any car that entered the town, and only cars that entered the town. So far, most cars had ignored this small town.   
“So, what do you make off this magic thing everyone is talking about?” Ryan attempted to start a conversation, and also make sense of everything that happened. “I…I don’t get it. Is there something I am missing?”  
His partner drawn out a long smoke. “I am confused too. To be fair, I wasn’t very religious myself and never really believed all the demons and god stuff my parents and everyone keep telling me about – you can’t tell anyone about this, promise?”  
“Of course. I have no reason to.”  
“Anyways, I’ve been watching Fox News for a while and they can get easily drawn into this conspiracy stuff with magic and demons from what I’ve noticed. So this is probably just hysteria from them. I will just wait for an explanation. I am sure that will come soon.”  
“Then how do you explain the FBI warrants?”  
“I don’t know. Hillary’s terrible, but she’s definitely not a demon. That’s physically impossible.”  
A truck marked with furniture images entered the town. Ryan and his partner waved it down. The truck slowed down and arrived in front of the patrol officers, then the truck windows rolled down. “What’s up, officers,” a middle aged man with a red MAGA hat leaned out the window. “Hot day today, huh?”  
“Sorry sir, but we need to check your shipment and your purpose. Town rule,” Ryan’s partner replied.   
“Oh, I know. I have been shipping here since forever. You can be sure my stuff is 100% safe. I am here just to drop off some furniture at Tom’s. I am not shipping drugs or anything.”  
“Town rule is town rule, sir,” Ryan’s partner motioned Ryan to unlock the cargo and check inside. Ryan nodded, wiped his sweat, then climbed to unlock the cargo.   
Inside was indeed just furniture. Chairs, drawers, shelves, wardrobes, bedframes. And it was much, much cooler than the outside world. Ryan stepped further inside, examining all the crevices. Most of the furniture were wrapped with shrink wrap or canvas, making the place seems like a haunted house.   
“Huh.” Ryan could feel the temperature inside this area of the cargo was much much colder than before. Unless there’s a large pack of ice here, the laws of thermodynamics mean this area should be warm. It should be cool, but not that cool.   
Then Ryan noticed something strange. A wardrobe at the far end of the area did not have its covering – rather, its covering was not on the wardrobe, but instead piled before the wardrobe. Perhaps the middle aged man forgot it?   
As Ryan walked closer, he felt the air grew progressively colder. “Geez”, he let out. “What’s in this thing?”  
And then—  
A woman. A grown African American woman curled up in the wardrobe with a simple tarp on her. She’s sleeping, and her breath was visible.   
“Oh. Oh god,” Ryan took a step back. “Who are you?”   
The woman blinked, then awoken to look at Ryan. “Who – who are you?”  
“I – we have an incident here!” Ryan panicked, and yelled out. Soon his partner was on the scene, along with the middle aged man.   
“What’s up, Ryan – Oh,” his partner said. “I see we have someone hiding here!”  
“Someone hiding – I swear, officer, I know nothing about this girl!” the middle aged man exclaimed. “I promise!”  
“Calm down, I am sure we can get this cleared out. Ryan, will you take my spot and watch the entrance? I can take care of her and take her to the office,” Ryan’s partner commanded.   
“Alright, officer,” Ryan replied, and waited down at the spot. He can see his partner asking some more questions toward the middle aged man, to the woman, then he walked toward Ryan.   
“I have to take this car, but I will be back just before the shift’s over to take you back to the office. If you need anything just ring the caller, but I am sure you can take care of it.” And with that, Ryan’s partner drove off. Shortly, the truck also drove away, leaving Ryan alone on the job.   
The sun was setting. A few more cars entered the town, but all of them were town visitors or residents. Aside from the woman, nothing else had happened. Soon, Ryan’s partner returned.   
“Shift’s over, Ryan. Let’s go back.”  
“What are they planning to do with the woman?” Ryan asked as he got into the car. “What’s the deal with her?”  
“the sheriff tried to interrogate her, but she didn’t say anything. I think she’s a runaway, but she looks a bit too old for that. I don’t know, we will probably just contact social services and send her away.”  
“But – wait,” Ryan paused before he mentioned the mysteriously cold air. Could she be? “Never mind. Maybe I will try something.”  
“Huh? What do you mean? You think you can get something from her?”  
“I don’t know. We will see.” And that really is the truth. There were some fleeing things in his mind right now that he can’t really say out loud.   
“We better hurry then, before your shift is officially over, otherwise the sheriff can get pretty angry.”  
The woman was placed in the only interrogation room in the office, a single room built exactly like the movies. Outsiders can see the interrogation from a one-sided mirror.   
“Hello sheriff. What’s the progress?” Ryan’s partner started.   
“You can see, son, that we don’t really have any progress. Our detectives are worn out. Best we’ve got is her ID and a Florida voter registration card.”  
“A… a what?” Ryan interjected.   
“Yes. We got her name down, but the card was torn in half, so we don’t know anything else.”  
“Nothing? Not even the party registration?”  
“I—oh you got a good point here Ryan,” the sheriff put his hand under his chin.   
“Oh,” Ryan realized he messed up. “To be fair I don’t think that means anything.”  
The woman sat motionless.   
“Ryan said he wanted to try to talk to her and maybe we will get some where,” Ryan’s partner continued. “From my impression this woman has some mental troubles, so we need someone younger to talk to her.”  
“How can you tell?” Ryan asked.   
“From her responses and the little words she said. She is stuttering a lot and can’t really form coherent sentences. Almost childish,” Ryan’s partner replied. “That’s why we were planning to call social services sooner or later.”  
That isn’t good.   
“Sheriff, let me in, I think I can convince her to talk.”  
The sheriff shot him a suspicious look. “I don’t know, Ryan, but good luck talking to her.”  
“Okay, ma’am, I need you to understand that I am trying to help you here,” Ryan sat down. The woman raised her head to look at Ryan. “You don’t have to be afraid.”  
Gosh, he should have asked the sheriff about her name.  
“I understand that you have many reasons for why you were there. We are not here to judge. I am not here to judge. Your secret is safe with me.”  
What is he going with this? What does he want with this?  
“Are you willing to talk to me? If this continues your situation won’t be getting better.”  
What if she really can use magic? Was he supposed to report her to the FBI? What does that make sense? Should he even believe in what the FBI and the White House says?   
Is she dangerous?  
Ryan shot a glance toward the one sided mirror, where he presumed the sheriff and his partner were listening to the interrogation. He took a deep breath, and leaned closer to the woman.   
“Alright, to tell you the truth, I know exactly why you are here, and why you ran away. And I know that if you stay here, things are not going to be great for you. But I can help. I am not going to turn you in to the federal authorities. So trust in me.”  
What was he saying? Was he really going to help this woman? Isn’t this… criminal? Will he be a federal fugitive if he helps? He doesn’t really understand what was going on anyways, just that she can’t possibly be this dangerous because it is physically impossible to use magic and –   
“Really? Re—ally? You are going to help me?” the woman replied.   
“Of course, otherwise I am not Officer Sharpshooter Ryan, a keeper of my words,” Ryan form a fist with his right hand and pounded his chest. “Now listen. I am going to take you out of here so I can ask you more stuff. You need to cooperate. Just wait here and I will pick you up.”  
The woman didn’t speak further, and slurped back onto the chair.   
“Hey sheriff. I got her to trust me and talk to me,” Ryan reported. “And I think taking her out and see the town to make her feel safe is the way to do it.”  
“Wow, Ryan,” the sheriff chuckled. “That’s very unorthodox, whatever you just did there.” He patted Ryan on the back. “You have my permission. You are a good kid, Ryan. I trust you.”  
Ryan mentally released his clutched hand. “Of course, sheriff. I will give you a report after this.”  
“Now, this is technically over the clock – well, Ryan, you know this means you don’t have a shift next month, right?”  
“Right.” Or perhaps no shift at all forever. “Now come with me,” Ryan opened the door the room. “Umm –”  
“Phoebe,” the sheriff completed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get her to tell you your name?”  
“Well, sheriff, even the best can overlook something.”  
What does the sheriff want, anyways? Ryan look over his shoulders as he beckoned Phoebe toward his car. No one was following him. “Listen. You got to keep quiet until we get out, okay? I still have something to take care of. We can’t let anyone else know about this, otherwise… I don’t know what will happen to you. Probably nothing good.”  
Phoebe only nodded.   
The car rolled up to Ryan’s house. Dinner was prepared, and both Sophia and his father now sat at the table. His mother was pouring some kind of soup into a large bowl, probably fish soup.   
“Welcome back, Ryan, you didn’t take the mint cookies I made you,” his mother started. “You are just in time for dinner.”  
“Thanks, mom, but I have other things to do.”  
“Other things? What other things, son, that is more important than eating dinner with your family? Your shift is over and your school is over. You don’t have anything to worry about! Just relax!” his father chuckled. “Come on now.”  
“Well, actually, I don’t really know either. On my way here, I got myself into something that might be more than I can take. So,” Ryan looked away. He has to take some food out of here. And some of his stuff.   
“Oh? What’s that I heard? Did I hear it correctly, son?” his father suddenly raised his voice, which scared Ryan for a bit. “You… did you found a girl on your way here?”  
“It’s… it’s kinda like that, yes. Just like that.”  
“Aha! So you’ve grown up after all! When I was your age I do this all the time! Skipping school and dinner to see my girls and play around.”  
“Honey, you are setting a bad example for Ryan.”  
“That’s great, Ryan! Of course, you can go to see your girl! I can’t be a hypocrite about this! It’s just a dinner that you can have another day!”  
“Honey.”  
“Thanks dad, but I am not really sure if I should go or not. It’s going to be a long night and I need to take some stuff with me,” Ryan scratched his head. This is going pretty smoothly.   
“Take whatever you need, you got to prepare yourself fully for your first time!”  
“HONEY!”  
“Darling, Ryan have my permission to leave and do what he needs. Isn’t that clear? He’s our son and we have to support what he does. Can’t shun him away from what could be the first in his life!”  
His mother sighed. “Remember to be responsible, Ryan. Now, when I was your age—”   
“I understand, mom. I need a Tupperware to pack some food for tonight.”  
“Packing some food? Why, son, aren’t you going to a party tonight?”  
“To be honest I am not sure about eating party food just yet. I am going to need a lot of food just in case the event last too long,” Ryan let out a forced chuckle. “Thanks dad.”  
That was much easier than he thought. But now the next part.  
He entered his room. It was calm and quiet. He scanned around. On his walls were posters from DC heroes and X-Men, posters he got by saving up. On his bed was a picture he got from Nashville, the only time he has been out of this town, signed by a comic creator for one of the DC universes.   
What is he going to take?  
He got to take all the clothes. Got to stuff all of them in the suitcase he got for that Nashville trip with his father. It’s big enough to stuff his entire room, but his father insisted they would buy enough stuff to stuff it full. Didn’t happen.   
He got to take the pillows and the blanket. Can’t take the mattress, because it is too big. So instead he took the sleeping bag.   
He got to take his toothbrush, and all the spare toothbrushes. He got to take some of that medicine the in the cabinet. He got to take some towels. Some toilet papers.   
He got to take his entire life savings, but leaving behind what can track him. He got to take his ID and licenses, but make it vague. He got to take his cabinet of bullets and keep his guns oiled. He got to keep his cords and solar generators just in case they got out in the wild. He got to.   
What?  
What is he doing? Why is he running away? For what? For something he doesn’t even know if she’s dangerous or not?  
His family was still eating dinner, Fox News was still on, the sun just went down, the sheriff hasn’t called Ryan on her status.   
“We are heading to Nashville first,” Ryan told the woman. “They must be something there. And I will need to get gas then.”  
“Um…Okay, Nashville,” the woman answered.   
He doesn’t know exactly where he is going, but somehow, they will figure it out.


	3. When the sun sets in the East

Summer session hasn’t started yet, but the UC Berkeley Quidditch team is in their summer season already. Franklin isn’t on the team, but her roommate is, and she had foolishly said she wanted to see her roommate play a game. She has never see Muggle quidditch before. Well, it was boring. Not as flashy as in the movies.   
The Campanile struck eleven. The captain of the team – or is it the captain, Franklin can’t tell – waved the team to get lunch and rest before their next game. Franklin saw her roommate walking toward her, so she turned off her phone and got up.   
“Great game, Joana?” Franklin tried to start a conversation. She wasn’t playing enough attention to say whether or not it was actually a good game.   
“Ugh. Terrible game. The undergrads didn’t know how to properly control their steps and fumbled a lot.” Joana took off her gloves and her broom stick – a single stick they have to put under their crotch in order to play. “We are playing a tournament against Stanford next week – would you believe that?”   
Franklin did not understand most of that sentence. “Are you going to wear that ‘Voldemort went to Stanford shirt?” Franklin tried to switch to a tangent. “I thought it was cool.”  
“We got our own uniforms. Ugh. Come on, let’s get lunch on the Northside,” Joana replied, waving a temporary goodbye to her teammates.   
“You seems very invested in this game you just got into,” Franklin followed behind Joana as they cross the glade into a small hill that leads to the elusive “Northside”, the northside of the campus with restaurants filled with over exhausted engineers. Of course, Franklin herself is a graduate biology student, already failing to get into med school.   
“It is a fun game once you know how to play. Not like these guys.”  
“Woah, okay, then. What are we having lunch today, Miss Witch?”   
The northside of the campus has much less variety of food than southside, but southside was a whole another trek. Joana selected a small Mexican food restaurant right outside of the official northern gate. “Let’s see if they have hot spicy food.”  
“I think you already been to this restaurant and know if they do have that, Joana,” Franklin jokingly said. Franklin doesn’t go out to eat much, rather instead focused on cooking her own food, or if she’s really in a pinch, going to the dorm dining rooms. They were cheaper than buying food elsewhere. “Besides, eating hot food in the middle of summer?”  
“It’s just food, Franklin. I like hot food.” Joana ordered a spicy shrimp taco, while Franklin ordered a small quesadilla. “We can get boba afterwards.”  
“Oh, sure,” Franklin said through her stuffed mouth. She began to check her phone for any news. “Say…how do you think your classes will go this semester?”  
“I can’t wait until it is over. The tax increase already choked me to death. I just want to finish this as soon as possible, right?” she laughed.   
“I guess. I just have a few research projects I have to do.”  
“A *few*? That’s a lot. How do you plan to get sleep?”  
“I survived four years at Davis. Sleep is for the weak. And that’s why I am here. Still. Alive,” Franklin chuckled. “We will get plenty of sleep once we finish this.”  
“Alright, alright then,” Joana rolled her eyes. Unlike Franklin, Joana chose gender study as an undergrad, and now attends the School of Law after failing to get a high enough LSAT and going into the Ivies. “You gotta start small, yeah,” she once said. In a way, they were both failed students.   
Franklin checked her news feed. “BREAKING: FBI Issued Arrest Warrant for Hillary Clinton,” the top news headline reads. “Say, Joana, have you heard about Hillary recently?”  
“Hillary who?” Joana replied, slurping on the ice water the waiter brought. “What about her?”  
“That old woman. They are finally going to throw her in jail.”  
“Finally. No real lost if they do, but at least Fox News can stop talking about her.”   
“I suppose, but it is such a waste of money and resources.”  
“You said the same word twice,” Joana made a wand motion with her fork. “And here is what you don’t understand, little STEM major. They are doing this to gain political capital to rebuild the Republican Party and get more public support to pass bills.”  
“That seems convoluted,” Franklin said the only thing she could say.   
“Nah. It’s pretty straight forward. It’s not three dimensional chess or anything.”  
The pair finished their lunch and ordered a cup of taro boba at a place just nearby. At this moment, the construction on Hearst Avenue just finished, so the road seems black and fresh. Some cars passed by. The sun was out on a clear sky, a normal day for this side of the Bay Area.   
“Well, what a nice way to waste your day playing muggle quidditch,” Franklin exclaimed.   
The game continued, and Franklin resumed her prior activity of watching TV shows on her phone. Despite how shitty the Airbear wifi is, it can still download some shows, especially since there aren’t a lot of people at the moment besides visitors and people walking their dogs.   
She was in the middle of an episode when she noticed something was different. A large crowd had gathered around the glade, including multiple University police officers. The game seems to be paused.  
“What is—”   
Franklin couldn’t believe what was in front of her eyes. A ball was floating – no, hoovering, in midair.   
“Did the unmanned aerial vehicle club flow one of their drones here?” someone from the quidditch team yelled out. At that instant, the ball dropped and bounced. No, it was one of the team’s ball. It flew, just like in the movie.  
A team member picked up the ball. “Joana, you had the ball before it went flying. Do you sense something wrong with it?”  
“I wanted it to fly before I throw it, and—”  
The team member bounced the ball in his hand. “Feels like any other ball we’ve had. And,” he turned to the crowd around the glade. “Anyone here got a video? Or am I just dreaming?”  
“No, you are not dreaming,” one of the officers stepped forward. “We can’t explain this right now, but we need you all to come to the headquarters. Right now.”  
The entire quidditch team turned toward the UCPD officers. “What? You can’t call us up randomly. That’s unconstitutional.”   
The officers looked back toward the rest of her team. Some other officers shook their head. “Don’t make this too difficult for you. We need you to cooperate so we can get to the bottom of this before anyone else gets hurt.”  
“What anyone else? What are you talking about?” Joana snapped. “We demand an explanation.”  
“And the explanation is, California is seceding,” an old, feminine voice boomed from behind the team. Everyone shifted their attention to a small, hunched back gray haired old woman with golden glasses.   
“Professor Tatsuki? What is she doing here?” Franklin thought out loud. Dr. Tatsuki is a professor of California politics and was said to have a direct phone line to Governor Jerry Brown. But she isn’t in her class.   
“You may not believe it, but this issue is of uppermost national security concern. Because of these we are on the verge of a civil war, and we must safeguard the safety of the American public from the government.”  
“What issue?” Joana shouted back.   
Dr. Tatsuki pointed her cane directly at Joana. “About you, in fact. The existence of magic.”  
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into conversation. “Is this about Hillary Clinton?” someone else said. “Does this have to do with the cases in Michigan and Wisconsin?” “What did she mean by ‘California is seceding’?”  
“Young lady, come with me.”  
“No,” Joana replied. “Your explanation is vague and unreasonable. I am not going with you.”  
“I am not arresting you, young lady. I am giving you an explanation of what has happened.” Dr. Tatsuki pointed her cane toward Franklin and the quidditch team. “You all need to come too. We are heading to Pimentel.”  
Franklin saw the UCPD officers made some gesture, and closed on to their target. She swallowed. They couldn’t escape this.   
“Welcome to Hogwarts, should I say?” Dr. Tatsuki opened the lecture hall and brought the chalkboard down. She motioned the confused crowd to sit down. “I am telling you as plainly as possible: what you just saw was magic. Pure, pure magic like Harry Potter. How appropriate.”  
“Professor? Is this a joke?” Joana asked.  
“Oh, no, it is of course not a joke. I am not giving you a letter to Hogwarts as a joke. It’s all real,” Dr. Tatsuki turned on the projector. What they saw was a live feed of CNN. “And it is of the uttermost importance for us to study this phenomenon and protect everyone.”  
The live feed had CNN’s political pundits arguing as usual on TV. Wolf Blitzer sounded exhausted. “Okay, everyone, we have to calm down. We don’t know everything yet. It is obvious that the federal government’s call to arrest all ‘persons of strange phenomenon’ is overreaching their authority and unnecessary. We don’t even know if they are dangerous. This is just going to be a repeat of nine eleven and we as a nation who has come forward so much cannot let that happen. We can’t let fear divide us.”  
“This is just the GOP playing into their religious base to rifle up fears.”  
“Are you insulting Christianity?”  
“No, this is not what I meant. You know this is not what I meant.”  
Dr. Tatsuki lowered the volume. “Now you all see what is at stake. The federal government just issued an arrest warrant for Hillary Clinton after what we called the first high profile documentation of so call ‘magic’, and then issued a widespread warrant for all ‘magic users’. I am sad to say that it was because of Hillary this garnered this kind of hostile attention from the federal government, but the past is the past. Governor Jerry Brown had declined to work with the federal government on this, but individual sheriffs down on the local countries may work with them instead. Governor Brown can’t sustain this forever.” Dr. Tatsuki closed her eyes. “In a few hours, Governor Brown will issue a statement on this issue, and things will explode. Please be prepared.”  
“Dr. Tatsuki, what exactly do you want from us?” Franklin asked.   
“I need your testimonies on what happened. I need to gather some of your information. I will tell you this – Governor Brown will issue a special task force to investigate this phenomenon, and he wants full cooperation from the UC community.”   
“What kind of special task force?” Franklin continued.   
“The UC administration will post a listing tonight and figure out the funding details tonight. We want to emphasize that this issue is urgent, and need to be resolved right away. Now,” Dr. Tatsuki brought out a stack of paper from god knows where. “I have prepared a short survey beforehand that I want you to answer. In front is a legal release note that I want you to read carefully and I encourage you to fill it out.” She looked directly to Joana. “This could be the cusp of a great scientific discovery, but it could also mean the greatest challenge our state will endure.”  
Franklin grabbed the paper. On the top was the standard UC research legal disclaimer and release term. On the bottom was a short form survey that wants her to describe what she saw.   
“ARE YOU A: __ non magic user __ magic user”  
“This was done on a short notice. I apologize if the form was incomplete with errors. When the task force is completed, we will formalize the nomenclature and format we will present our findings. Governor Brown won’t use any definite nomenclature tonight, only something vague. Because we don’t want to cause any panic within the public.”  
“Dr. Tatsuki, you sounded like you already planned this with Governor Brown,” Franklin said out loud.   
“Governor Brown called the UC admins requesting help as soon as he saw the news about Hillary Clinton. I gave him advice on how to address this issue and we formulated a plan for the future,” Dr. Tatsuki leaned on her cane. “And we all believe this issue will change the nation forever.”  
Franklin focused back to the form.   
“EVENT TIME:   
“EVENT LOCATION:   
“DESCRIPTION OF EVENT:  
“PURPOSE AT THE EVENT:  
“ATMOSPHERE:  
“MOOD:  
“PERSONAL HEALTH:  
“PAST VOTING HISTORY:”  
“Dr. Tatsuki, why are you asking for past voting history?” Franklin asked when she got to that part. “Why is this important?”  
“Fox News – and you know how the GOP is utterly dependent on Fox News – suggested that the federal government should use Russia’s hacked vote to determine potential magic users and intern them, the implication is to find all Hillary Clinton voters and jail them regardless if they have magic or not. I believe this is nothing other than a witch hunt – pardon the pun – thus we need data to show the correlation between magic and voting record. Again, this crisis is being used by the right as an opportunity, and we must be on the vanguard to protect everyone.”  
Franklin completed the forms and turned them in to the desk next to Dr. Tatsuki. Others also began to finish the form and turning to leave. “You may leave now and we probably won’t ask you any more question, but in the future, we might contact you.” Franklin saw Joana trying to turn in her form. “Hold on a minute. We still need more data from you, so you need to come with me.” Dr. Tatsuki gave Joana a thick stack of paper, something Franklin thought was the UC health release form. “Please cooperate with us.”  
“Wait. What are you doing with her?” Franklin interrupted. “You are not taking her away, right?”  
“If she agrees to do this check, she will be back before tonight.” Dr. Tatsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Will you, young lady?”  
Joana’s gaze flashed a bit. “Um, sure.”  
“Can I come with her? She is my roommate and I am worried about her.”  
“Unfortunately, this is a confidential check. Legally you cannot come with her. But if she so choose to tell you about everything, she can.”  
“Promise me you will be back, okay?” Franklin left Pimentel, defeated.   
The ordeal with Dr. Tatsuki lasted for an hour, and then it took Franklin another half an hour before she reached back home. “I guess… I will be alone for a while.”  
School hasn’t started yet. Franklin logged onto an online discussion group she had found in undergraduate years to see if anyone else is talking about this issue.   
“Hello everyone. Just got back from watching a bunch of people playing ball,” Franklin typed. “what did I miss?”  
“Frankie? Oh man, you missed EVERYTHING!” someone replied. “MAGIC IS REAL!”  
“Okay don’t scare her. We don’t know if magic is real or not. We just have some blurry potato quality cellphone footage. I hate to say this but we gotta wait before we start to think Hogwarts is real.”  
“But like it is TOTALLY MAGIC. Don’t be a scully, you all.”  
“This isn’t the X-Files. We live on this universe that follow the law of physics. I am not being a ‘scully’. I am being realistic.”   
“Pfft. We already had this long debate in the physics chat. There’s no physical explanation for this. It has to be magic!”  
“That’s not how the scientific method works.”  
“Magic?” Franklin typed. “Honestly I think it is one of those Loch Ness monster things. I think we will have to wait a while before jumping into any conclusions. We are scientists, right?”  
“Right.”   
“Nah some of us here are humanities major.”  
Franklin wasn’t sure if she was allowed to share what Dr. Tatsuki told her at Pimentel. But apparently Jerry Brown will make an announcement soon.   
“What is right wing media saying about all of this?” Franklin typed.   
“Heh. They are pretty ecstatic that their pet theory that Hillary was actually a witch got ‘proven’ on camera. Even though that’s pretty ridiculous. I wonder if their base believes in miracles and shit. Maybe they should stop using modern medicine.”  
“Oh they also issued a broad warrant for ‘suspicious people’ and all. Like that is totally not totalitarian and totally not an excuse to jail dissents.”  
“Jailing them? Is that what are they gonna do now? If these people really have ‘magic’ do they really think a simple jail cell is going to contain them?”  
Huh?  
Franklin pondered on that statement. Of course, she knew that magic is real, and she believes that the federal government also believe magic is real. Therefore, the federal government won’t be just jailing them. They would need a more resistant way.   
Or a more permanent way.   
“No, stop. That’s impossible. They can’t just kill everyone without due process,” someone else jumped to the thought before Franklin.   
“Can they? The government did this before with undocumented immigrants. I am sure you know about this.”  
“Or citizens that so happens to be born in another country and somehow is less than a citizen.”  
“No, they can’t kill sixty five million people. That’s impossible.”  
“But there can’t be sixty five million magical people. Are you magical? Am I magical?”  
“Did you hear what Fox News was saying? They want to use the voter rolls to end it before they become a danger to the world.”  
“…”  
“Stop being doom and gloom. That’s logistically impossible and will end badly for the government. It is nothing but a scare tactic by the right. This is one sixth of the US population.”  
“Look I hate to say this but in Germany”  
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TO COMPARE THIS TO THE HOLOCAUST”  
Franklin got nothing to say.   
“Guys, why don’t we calm down and let lawyers sort this out?”  
“Yeah!” Franklin typed in support. “Let’s leave this to the civil rights lawyers. I don’t think we will have any power to do anything at the moment.”  
“Hey anyone checked reddit?”  
“Why?”  
“They hate woman with a passion and have some out of the clouds insights. I want to know.”  
“Well, okay. Give me eye bleach afterwards.”  
“HAHAHAHAHAH.”  
“What?”  
“Reddit’s askscience armchair scientists are so hilarious. They are bringing some impossible theories into the mix. And this guy gets gilded!”  
“I mean it’s reddit. That’s pretty tame compared to what I would expect.”  
“Like?”  
“Woman are actually magical demons. I would expect that.”  
“But there are already male ‘magical users’ in the news. Like Ren Trenton.”  
“It’s reddit. They have asinine double standards.”  
“Okay. Anyone dared to check r/politics? r/hillaryclinton? r/t_d?”  
“t_d?”  
“The Subreddit That Shall Not be Named but Should be Banned”  
“Nah. I don’t think there’s anymore people other than Russian bots.”  
“r/politics have a megathread on the arrest warrants.”  
“What did they say?”  
“Umm… this is an acceptable action by the federal government because magic is real?”  
“What?”  
“Yeah reddit is a right wing cesspool.”  
“Yeah but…magic is real? What?”  
“If magic is real.”  
“I think it has more to do with ‘reddit is secretly right wing cesspool’ than ‘magic is real’ part.”  
“Fine. What about left wing reddit?”  
“Hillary Clinton and her supporters deserved to be arrested.”  
“I am not surprised.”  
“Out of all things this is probably the only thing the left and the right can unite on.”  
“Okay but didn’t some people on the left voted for her?”  
“These are the same people who voted for Trump because he will bring the revolution.”  
“Well okay then. Good luck to them.”  
“What about r/hillaryclinton?”  
“The subreddit is banned.”  
“WHAT?”  
“Says legal request.”  
“WHAT? When does reddit EVER responds to legal requests?”  
“To be fair sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t. They are inconsistent.”  
“Okay but on what legal ground are they banning r/hillaryclinton?”  
“I don’t know.”  
The door squeaked. Franklin raised her head to see Joana coming in. “Welcome back home. What did they do to you?”  
“Nothing,” she said with a monotone voice. “They did a physical and a blood test. They asked more stuff about my political history. Then they asked me to try to levitate some things. I couldn’t. So they let me go.”  
“That sounds tough.”  
“Yeah. Franklin, do you trust me?”  
“Trust you? Of course I do!”  
“Do you think I am dangerous?”  
“Um, no? You are not doing something dangerous. Calm down. Get something to eat. I will cook you something.”  
“Do you think I should trust the UC?”  
Franklin paused. “Dr. Tatsuki doesn’t seems to be hostile. I don’t think you need to worry about anything as long as you are here. I don’t know how this thing will work, but I hope everything gets resolved soon. Now come here. Let’s get dinner and watch TV.” But Franklin could feel that everything became a little awkward. “Let’s go.”  
Was she scared? Franklin isn’t sure how to answer that. All she read about magic was what was in Harry Potter, and magic isn’t exactly an inherently evil force there.   
Man, JK Rowling probably have her twitter feed blown up by now.   
But she can’t say she isn’t a little scared. She doesn’t have magic. She’s a plain muggle. At least in Hogwarts there were strong regulations about using magic toward muggles and stuff. There aren’t such regulations here. Only regulations for the common people.   
What if someone rich get this kind of ability? Will they use it to oppress people forever?   
Midway through an episode, Franklin checked her news feed.   
“BREAKING: Governor Jerry Brown announced California as a sanctuary for the persecuted, offering safety for all people under the FBI warrant.”  
“WHAT?”  
Joana was startled by Franklin’s sudden exclamation. “What is up?”  
“Governor Brown. He just. He just said California is a sanctuary state for magic.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“It means California is officially going against the federal government.”


End file.
